As capricious as the tides are the onslaughts of The Pele. It's not mathematical. One day it might not hook you, another day it might knock you down like it did in the Festival Flamenco Rota StartHe had his night of inspiration. He sang with gusto and conveyed his emotions, shaking the very core of the fans' hearts. This gypsy from Cordoba was crowned in Rota, tempering himself as he pleased. Because he knows how, because he can, and because he wants to. He shared the spotlight with the Jerez native. Luis the Zambo, who exuded mastery in abundance, the flavor, the spontaneity, the wisdom and the unmistakable scent of the molten metals of the two lineages that run through his veins: Fernandez y Copse. Almost nothing! They were two titans who made the stands vibrate, enjoying a contest full of creative personality, each in their own registers and with different palates for the delight of the audience. flamencos.
The festival was completed by the dancer Maria Tavora and his painting, and the singer Montse Cortes, forming a heterogeneous cast to cover a wide range of tastes.
Half an hour late and after the audience had witnessed the sound check, the lustrous words of the friend and companion broke the breeze Juan Garrido, undoubtedly one of the best communicators of the flamenco, which has been presenting with aplomb and dynamism a good handful of festivals that have the good sense to mark their number for these purposes.
"El Pele tore my flesh when he complained about the seguiriya, sticking his finger in the wound until the blood rushed to his throat, which closed the lament with the macho of Los Puertos, letting go of the loose ends. His cantiñas were of absolute creative genius, where he put his own stamp on each of the verses he sang. Sublime, masterful."
He opened the dance, something unusual. But they wanted to save the main course for the last act, as is customary. With the guitar in time with Joselito Pérez, the cante of old bronze The Little Breast and the braided melismas of Manuel de Gines María Távora stepped onto the small platform, wrapped in a blanket. A string of cantiñas in the singers' well-toned voices encouraged the polka dots on the dress and shawl of the Sevillian dancer to unleash the rhythm and sprinkle the salt of Cádiz with hints of Lebrija with the variations of Pinini and also to Utrera. Tangos mediated during the costume change for El Pechuguita and Manuel to shine. And the solemn black of the soleá took to the beams where the young dancer sought intensity in her performance, dancing to the thirds of La Andonda, The Monkey, The Roezna…and to top it off with bulerías. María offered a more than worthy recital, anchored in classicism, very flamencoHe danced to the cante and he gave himself over, drawing the figures with his whole body without the supremacy of the feet, with the appropriate gesture, arm movement and naturalness of pose.
Pele formed the taco. From the moment he opened his mouth until he said goodbye to the audience, he did nothing but hit. pellizcos. The guitar of Seve child He carried him better than in his arms, with enviable neatness and a powerful and resounding touch. Clean tremolos, deep tunings that sought other tones in the drone, vertiginous picados, harmonics with a sound of aplomb, a basket of rhythm and many others of flamenco were the ingredients that gave the "salad" of canteEl Pele's is the essential support to stand out at the top. "Seve, I wouldn't trade you for all the Moor's gold," said the Cordoban, praising his guitarist's playing. palmas they shielded him Manuel Bellido y Manuel González.
He began as he likes, winding his way around the edges. And then he curled the wicker of his prodigious voice with a malagueña, with full, mournful bass notes and brave high notes full of interpretative quality, without imitations. He didn't sound like anyone else, even though he explored the airs of the double of The Twin or of the trinity. Then he tied the abandolaos at will, eating up the time, entering and exiting the verdiales paths at will, knowing he knew every corner he was passing through with his Adam's apple. He tore my flesh when he complained through seguiriya, putting his finger in the wound until the blood rushed to his throat, which closed the lament with the male from Los Puertos, letting go of the ends. His cantiñas were of absolute creative genius, where he imposed his own stamp on each of the stanzas he sang. Sublime, masterful. He locked them, forgetting about the PA system, on the air, with verses of Alberti -If my voice were to die on earth–. And he went for soleá, his soleá. What a breadth of tonal range! Even though he sang the traditional variations, he sifted them through his blessed trance, reinventing them without going out of his way. Ready to close the door by fitting the toná into those bars, the excited audience asked for another one. And since he was enjoying himself, he didn't need to be asked to give him a brushstroke of bulerías with a little kick included. It was a memorable performance by a maestro who, when the sirocco blows, snatches the oles right away.
"Luis sang so well. He didn't hold anything back. He poured out the mastery and the bed of flamenco experiential, from the university of revelry and sunrises, from art binges, from cante Mamao. His fondness for María Bala, Uncle, was evident. Borrico or Deafness. But Luis sounded like Luis»
Montse Cortés's intervention would have benefited from some palmeros. Only the guitar covered her Julio Cortes, which was correct, as was the cante Montse's. Despite possessing a very flamenco voice and stringing together a repertoire that I couldn't fault, I found her pace tedious and lukewarm, without any painful scratches or shivering caresses. She strung together a tasty assortment of variations in the soleá por bulería. She continued with cantiñas, stopping in Cádiz, Lebrija, and Córdoba. She sweetened up even more in the vidalita. She almost caught me in the seguiriya that curiously began with the I deny and culminated with the light toná of Diego the Lebrijan with undeniable dedication. And he went into tangos, sometimes struggling with the beat.
"If the book of bulería has ten chapters, one of them is from El Zambo," Juan Garrido firmly stated. And so it is. "El Zambo flamenco needed Luis to learn about his metals." Juan showered well-deserved praise on El Zambo, one of the last bastions of cante of the flavor and essence of Jerez that every time you search for it in the centers, it fills us with blessed glory. The first bulería of the night arrived and the commotion began. With the guitar ringing out rancid falsetas of Domingo Rubichi's and palmas de Louis of Rebeco y Ali of the Tota The celebration of the rhythm ritual took place. Luis sang to bursting with good. He held nothing back. He poured out the mastery and the leco of flamenco experiential, from the university of revelry and sunrises, from art binges, from cante Mamao. His fondness for the memory of Maria Bala, Uncle Borrico o The Deafness. But Luis sounded like Luis. Because the bulería emanated from his mouth so that you could hear it like you were blinking. He stabbed little fandangos, following the chocolate echoes in his own way. He relapsed with his palate into bulería. And when Montse and Távora came up for the finale, he fancied the seguiriya, sat them down next to him, and swept away tears in the big eyes of his daughters and a few fans whose left foot he left in tatters. The seguiriya cry of El Zambo was so painful that if it had been worth it, he would have stayed there "until the milkman arrived." María danced bulerías for him. And Ali too, with even more age, if possible, than when playing the palmasZambo came and went with a flourish, leaving the aftertaste of his surname perfuming the air of his second home, Rota, for the annals of Arranque history.
Credits
XLII Festival Flamenco Rota Start
Patio of CP Maestro Eduardo Lobillo
Rota, Cadiz
August 9th, 2025
Dance: María Távora
Cante: The Pechuguita and Manuel de Gines
Guitar: Joselito Pérez
Cante: The Pele
Guitar: Niño Seve
Palmas: Manuel Bellido and Manuel González
Cante: Montse Cortés
Guitar: Julio Cortés
Cante: Luis El Zambo
Guitar: Domingo Rubichi
Palmas: Luis de Rebeco and Ali de la Tota
